


Blueblossom

by restingpidgeface (Arlene0401)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Injuries, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Canon, basically lotor is surprisingly a wuss in certain aspects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 16:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13194384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlene0401/pseuds/restingpidgeface
Summary: After weeks and weeks of hard work, Lance looks forward to a week off with his sweetheart. Sadly, the preparation of his welcome dinner didn't go as planned, and the vacation starts with him dragging a very resisiting "Blueblossom" to hospital...





	Blueblossom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zhigard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhigard/gifts).



> Requested on tumblr by [noenoh](http://noenoh.tumblr.com) with the prompt "“It was an accident. I was cooking…I’m not going to the hospital.”   
> Somehow I forgot to post it to my AO3? But here you are!

The shuttle ride back home seemed endless. Lance fidgeted in his seat, crossed his legs, uncrossed them again. Fingerdrummed an angry rhythm on the armrest. Loosened the collar of his stiff uniform top, sighed impatiently. But nothing could make the vehicle move faster.

_Technically_ , he was on vacation. Technically, he should be treating himself to a home spa day, dipping into the pool or shopping at the mall. Preferably in the company of a certain person whose presence in his life still made his heart skip in incredulous glee. Every morning when he woke up in the other’s company he discreetly pinched his own arm to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. Convince himself that these strong arms wrapped around him, the silken silver hair brushing his cheek were real.

He’d look down on the sleeping face beside him, and every morning, without fail, Lotor would stir awake at that, open brilliant yellow eyes and pull him even closer with a smile that showed entirely too many teeth.

Waking up in the arms of a lilac-skinned alien with a predatory set of teeth and an equally predatory nature should be something that set all his primal alarms flaring. Instead, Lance would bury his nose in the crook of Lotor’s neck and count his blessings.

This week, after quiznak knew how many weeks of constant working, fleeting morning kisses and takeout dinners, they both were supposed to be off. Just the two of them, a bed, a disconnected phone and as much ice cream as the freezer would hold. But no, Lance had been called to the Garrison to a super important meeting that came up at the last minute. He had begged, threatened, thrown a tantrum and finally been promised a second week of holiday if he just appeared for this one meeting.

Now, he was on his way home to his sulking spouse and couldn’t wait to fling his uniform off him and exchange it for swim trunks. Or for nothing at all.

Clutching a box of Hershey’s Kisses that Lotor was so inordinately fond of under his arm, Lance rushed up the garden path, swiped his hand over the panel to open the door and entered the hallway.

“Lotor, darling? I’m home!”

“Kitchen.”

Hm. That didn’t sound entirely cheerful, but it was still better than sullen silence. Apparently Lotor had decided not to put the blame on him.

“I’m sorry darling, but now we have two weeks entirely to -”

Lance stopped dead in his tracks at the sight in the kitchen. The counter was full of chopped vegetables, the largest kitchen knife lay on the floor, and a trail of blood drops led to the table. There, Lotor sat with his left hand wrapped in a kitchen towel, so pale he looked almost blue.

“Oh my God, Lotor, did you hurt yourself? Let me see.” Carefully, Lance unwrapped the towel and winced when he saw Lotor’s hand.

“Oh dear, that doesn’t look good. You’ll need to have that treated. Come on, put on some shoes, I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Abruptly, Lotor got up and re-wrapped his hand. “It was an accident. I was cooking…I’m not going to the hospital.”

“Blueblossom, you can’t be serious. You need to get some stitches, and have the cut properly cleaned up. Maybe a tetanus shot. This can’t heal all by itself.”

“It’s only a small cut. No need to make such a fuss over it. Get me a band-aid or something.” Lotor bent over to pick up the knife and stumbled, suddenly dizzy. Lance caught him and firmly led him back to his chair.

“And I’m having none of this nonsense. Don’t be so stubborn - a big bad guy like you has had worse than a couple of stitches, haven’t you?”

“Lance, I’m not going to one of your Earth hospitals.” Lotor bared his teeth. “They know nothing of my anatomy and botch it all up. If they don’t run some terrible… experiments on me.”

“Oh quiznak. Has Pidge sent you one of those Area 51 documentaries again? Blueblossom, I’m telling you, they don’t perform rectal examinations on aliens anymore. To be honest, I have no idea why they were ever so invested in shit like that. Literally.”

“Yeah, but…”

“What is it, darling? You’re the ambassador of Galra, you will get the best possible treatment.” Lance studied Lotor’s pale face and gently lifted his chin with a finger. “Hey. Look at me. What’s bothering you?”

Lotor huffed. “I’m… _(mumble mumble)_.”

“Sorry? I didn’t hear that properly.”

“I - _(mumble mumble)_.”

“You’re scared of _what_?”

“Needles. I can’t stand needles, okay? Happy now?” Lotor narrowed his eyes. “Lance. Are you fucking laughing at me?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Lance replied with an almost calm voice. Almost. “Many people are scared of needles or hospitals. But blueblossom, that cut looks really really bad. If you don’t have it treated, it will get infected. Please? For me? I’ve had tons of stitches and I promise it’s not that bad. And I will be there the entire time and yell at them if that makes you feel better. Okay?”

With much more cajoling, he got Lotor to slip on his sneakers and drove him to hospital. Lotor was instantly recognised and hastily ushered into an examination room, right past all the other patients who clutched various parts of their anatomy. One snarl and a flash of yellow eyes was enough to nip all protests in the bud.

“That really wasn’t so bad,” Lotor said, inspecting his clean bandage and happily sucking on a lollipop. “And human hospitals are much better than expected. In Galra hospitals, they don’t have a candy jar for the patients. There, you just get a whack on the head if you scream too much.” He nuzzled the soft purple cat plushie that Lance had bought him at the gift shop. “And it’s really a human custom to buy stuffed toys for injured people? It’s… nice.”

Lance scratched his chin to hide a smile and carefully kept his eyes on the road ahead. Like hell was he going to tell Lotor that candy jars and plushies were for kids. And for aliens who screamed blue murder at the sight of a masked doctor.


End file.
